


Happy Birthday

by poopoopops



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:50:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poopoopops/pseuds/poopoopops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dani's birthday and she's trying to be happy. A simple phone call from Brittany to Santana reminds her just why she has to try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday

Today is your birthday. 

It's supposed to be a happy occasion and so you are happy. Your smoking hot girlfriend is here with you _, for you_ , to celebrate your birthday.

She's booked a table for two at _Per Se_ , a restaurant you know would cost her close to two weeks worth of tips. Factor in the car she rented just to chauffeur you from your house to here and back, and that would be another week's worth of tips. That’s discounting the guy she paid to queue so you wouldn’t have to wait.

Add that all together and that’s practically a month’s worth of tips earned from serving ungrateful customers who shout at you when you’re too slow in refilling their coffee mugs or in taking their orders, even when it’s obvious you’re struggling with what seems like ten thousand plates on your arms. The only reason why you don’t smash their faces in with your tray is because you need their money. You need the tips. Simple as that.

So every time you feel tempted to upend the contents of your tray onto a customer’s head, you remind yourself of the nice five or ten-dollar bill you will be pocketing soon, and you smile and suck it up. You know it’s the same way with Santana. So you can't help but smile at the thought that Santana is actually willing to splurge on you. That has to be a good sign right? 

She's even brought you flowers. Not just any flowers but your favourite ones. You glance down at the bouquet of yellow daffodils nestled by your elbow and smile. The petals are perfect, free from flaws and wilted edges. Santana sure made effort in choosing them.

You love the flowers and you tell her so. You want to put them somewhere safe, somewhere where it wouldn't be easy for you to nudge them off the table and onto the floor. It would be such a pity if that happens. 

When you tell Santana that too, she laughs and asks you not to be silly. 

"They're just flowers babe."

“Exactly!” You protest but she simply laughs your concerns away.

“If you do knock them over, _which you will not_ , I’ll just buy you a new bunch. Problem solved! Now finish your meal so we can get dessert. How are the shrimps?”

The sides of her eyes crinkle the way they do when she is about to do something mischievous and you’re unsurprised when she leans over to steal a shrimp off your plate. Silly girl. All she had to do was ask. She laughs for the third time when you give her an unimpressed look and you’re struck by how beautiful she is.

When Rachel and Kurt told you your girlfriend had been one of the most popular girls in their high school, you remember being unsurprised. Why should you have been when Santana looks the way she is? You would be surprised if she hadn’t been prom queen.

You weren’t surprised too when Rachel and Kurt mentioned how Santana used to be a bully. She can be one too when she meets people she dislikes.

Santana has an acidic tongue. Her words are like a spiked whip and though you've apparently never heard her mouth at its full glory (you've been told she's toned down a lot since high school), you've been around the loft enough times to witness her vicious but admittedly hilarious barbs aimed at Kurt and Rachel.

But as callous as Santana can be with her words, it's easy to like her. And once you really get to know her, it's easy to love her, because underneath that prickly shell is a loyal, funny, sweet, vulnerable girl who has a heart capable of immense love and generosity.

When Santana’s phone rings, you see the way her eyes light up and you don’t need to look down at the device to see who’s calling. There’s only one person who can get that reaction out of Santana.

“Do you mind if I get that babe? It’s Britt.”

She rolls her eyes to convey her annoyance for the incoming distraction, but you can tell her heart is not in it. She actually is happy that her ex is calling.

Santana would prefer the term best friend but based on what she's told you, and what you've heard from Kurt and Rachel, you wonder if they've ever just been best friends. Maybe at one point, possibly. But when you've connected with someone on an intimate level, even if they were your best friend before, it's difficult to get back to just being best friends. It’s either all or nothing. You can't even begin to comprehend how their relationship works. But that's the thing. That's _their_ thing.

“Sure,” you say with a shrug, before going back to your food. It’s not as if you can deny her when she’s looking like that – bright eyes, cheeks slightly flushed, teeth biting down slightly on her bottom lip to stem her excitement.

 _It’s just a phone call_ , you want to tell her but you don’t. _But it’s my birthday,_ you want to say but again, you don’t because it would sound petty. Instead, you look down at your plate and focus on finishing your meal. You wouldn’t mind getting that ice-cream cone thing with the curd…thing, even if you don’t know what the hell it actually is. You just suddenly have this craving for something sweet.

“Hey Britt. What’s up? We have to make this short okay?”

You can’t hear what is being said on the other side of the line but you can imagine. And sometimes, imagination can be your worst enemy.

“Yeah, it’s Dani’s birthday!”

You lift your head at the sound of your name. There’s a short pause and Santana’s lips curve as she locks eyes with you. You know what’s coming but before you can shake your head or say no, Santana is already pushing the phone into your hand.

“Britt wants to wish you happy birthday.” She tells you happily and for a split second, you feel an unreasonable swell of anger surge inside you. You want to take the phone from Santana just so you can throw it back in her face.

You love Santana, you do. And you love her all the more for not even trying to hide what she feels for Brittany from you. But that’s the problem. She doesn’t realise there’s something to hide. But you do and it frustrates you to no end. It’s clear as glass and you don’t understand how she can’t see it.

Or maybe you do. Self-denial is a power thing. You would know.

The anger dissipates as quickly as it came, and despite yourself, you find yourself reaching for the phone. Santana beams at you so brightly it hurts.

“Hello?”

 “Hi Dani! Happy birthday! I’m so, so happy Santana managed to get you a table at _Per Se_. I’ve been telling her how awesome that place is and how she should totally take you there. I’m glad she did!”

For some reason, hearing Brittany say that, you think your heart just cracked a little. You wonder how many cracks it can withstand before it breaks apart.

“Thank you.” You say softly and before you can process your actions, you’re passing the phone back to Santana.

As you do so, your arm brushes past the flowers and send them careening off the table and onto the ground. You can only look on as a few of the daffodils spill out of the plastic wrapping and scatter onto the floor. 

“Oh shit. I’ll call you back later Britt.” You hear Santana say but you can’t bring yourself to look up from the accidental piece of art that lay on the pristine marble floor.

“I’ll get it.” She says, ever the chivalrous one.

You watch as Santana bends over to pick up the fallen flowers. She stuffs them back as well as she can into the packaging before handing it back to you.

“No harm, no foul.” She grins at you and you try your best to grin back.

The daffodils are still as pretty but there’s definitely less finesse gone into the flower arrangement this time. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a lone daffodil lying delicately behind Santana’s chair. She’s missed that one.

“Everything okay babe? You look a little… distracted.” Santana says with some concern.

You feel yourself blink a couple of times before you finally look away from the dash of yellow. It’s still hovering somewhere in your eye line, trying to distract you. You ignore it.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay. I’m just.. really happy.”

“Really? Then I’m happy too,” Santana smiles as she leans across the table to kiss you. “Happy birthday babe.”

You wonder if she's happy because you're celebrating your birthday together or because she’s managed to speak to Brittany. 

You wonder if she's forgotten whose birthday she actually is celebrating.

You wonder how much longer you can last. 

You wonder how much longer  _she_  can last. 

You wonder if this is a mistake.

You eat your last shrimp and order your dessert.


End file.
